


Him Before You, Me Before Him

by Sarebal



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alliances, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Atsumu will protect Osamu at all costs, Betrayal, Blood, Brutality, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Inarizaki, M/M, MSBY, MSBY Black Jackals - Freeform, Mentioned Hinata Shouyou, Mentioned Kageyama Tobio, Mentioned Kozume Kenma, Mentioned Kuroo Tetsurou, Miya Atsumu is a Little Shit, Oral Sex, Osamu is an oblivious idiot, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Prison, Protective Miya Atsumu, Seduction, Sex ring, Suna is a little shit, Violence, Yakuza, drug ring, in too deep, mentioned Kita Shinsuke, prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29793663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarebal/pseuds/Sarebal
Summary: There were many things 24-year-old Miya Atsumu had seen and done in his lifetime. He's watched people he's cared about disappear into the night. He's seen the way bloodied hands turn brown when all is dried. But, most importantly, he's watched his brother fall in love. Osamu had everything Atsumu didn't, and for damn good reason. As long as his brother was happy, Atsumu was happy.Life didn't always make sense. Sakusa understood that perfectly well. Every once in a while, life had a way to come along and shake the very ground beneath him. It happened when he witnessed the death of his mother. It happened when he first killed another man. And, it happened when he first laid eyes on one Miya Atsumu. Yeah, life sure as hell didn't make sense.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	1. Chipped Nails, Contract Kill

**Author's Note:**

> I'm OBSESSED with yakuza/gangster SakuAtsu and thought, "well yes, let's write something you're bound to be shit at, but at least it makes you happy!". Anyway, please enjoy my attempt at a yakuza fic and the SakuAtsu accompaniment.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was risky, but Atsumu was one of his best. Kita knew, that no matter what he asked of Atsumu, the blonde would agree. The only problem was convincing Osamu. 
> 
> "What about your brother?"
> 
> Atsumu remained silent, his eyes following Kita's movements through his office.
> 
> "Leave him to me. But, I need to ask a favor, Kita-sama."
> 
> It was incredibly rare for Atsumu to be so formal, especially to Kita.
> 
> "Drop the formalities, 'tsumu. We've known each other for far too many years. What can I do for you?"
> 
> "'Samu will be suspicious. Even if I tell him the job is safe and can be done alone. He will come to ya for more details. I need ya to lie to him. Tell him it's a basic drug deal in Tokyo and that I'll be back in two weeks time."
> 
> Atsumu was right. Osamu would be suspicious. It wouldn't be the first time Kita had sent Atsumu alone on a job, but no matter the details or how Atsumu promised his own safety, Osamu would always go to Kita for proof. Although he hated lying to either twin, this one was inevitable.
> 
> "Of course, 'tsumu. Anything to keep him safe, right?"
> 
> "Right."

Atsumu hated making the early morning treks to the Inarizaki HQ. The chilling air and frigid rain sprinkled into his hoodie, slowly seeping further into his clothes. The streets were long since empty, most of the populous tucked away "safely" inside their homes and resting for the sunrise. Moving through the streets silently, Atsumu keeps his hands tucked into his hoodie's pocket, a hand clenched tightly around a pocket knife.

"What I wouldn't give to be sleeping in a hot bed right now," Atsumu growls out, his voice echoing through the latest back alley he'd taken.

Kita had called no less than an hour ago with the offer of a new job, one only Atsumu could pull off. Without hearing the details, Atsumu accepted, short on cash and reeling with cabin fever. It had been a long month of no jobs and putting up with his brother's endless trysts with Suna. As he neared HQ, a familiar warmth filled his stomach, nostalgia filling him with old memories. 

HQ was nothing more than a rather large and well furnished abandoned warehouse closer to the outskirts of town. Had Atsumu been a little more awake, he would've opted to take the shortcut below his own apartment building; the sewers. Although the smell was disastrous, the sewers were the best option for safe traveling. It made him feel secure. 'Samu had once joked and said it was where Atsumu belonged since he was nothing more than disgusting trash. Atsumu agreed. As Atsumu continued on his way, hoots and hollers from other members of Inarizaki echoed along the drag. As he approached his fellow members, they quieted down, watching as he made his way confidently toward the large double doors.

"Isn't that Miya Atsumu? The one who took out the leader of the rebel group?"

"Yeah, I heard that he's here with a special request from the boss himself!"

"He's so fucking cool~"

A sick pride wells inside Atsumu's chest while listening to the gossip. It was no secret to Inarizaki just how far Atsumu was willing to go to complete a job. Nor was it a secret that he, 'samu, and Kita were very close. 

"How much you wanna bet he's sucking dick to get these jobs?"

Atsumu snorts when he hears that one. Sure, Atsumu would use his body and charm to his advantage - more often than not he'd even sleep with a target just so they let their guard down. However, sucking dick wasn't his favorite. 

"Kita-sama wouldn't lower himself to such cattle. But Rico would,"

"Well, maybe not for Atsumu. But Osamu? He's someone I'd let ride me any day."

Atsumu stops walking, turning to look at this "Rico" guy. Said man freezes and looks at Atsumu, terror palpable. Sighing through his nose, Atsumu heads in his direction, eyes locked on his target. Maybe out of fear, or instinct, Rico backs away to the nearest building as Atsumu gets closer.

"Care to repeat that to my face, Rico?" 

Although his voice is calm, there's malice behind each word. That was part of Atsumu's charm. His words could mean one thing, but his tone? That was something else. With only a few words and a suggestive tone, Atsumu could make a man drop to his knees and beg to be filled with Atsumu's cock. 

Quite noticeably, Rico gulps down what little saliva he had stored before opening his mouth.

"Yer next words better be chosen carefully, Rico," Atsumu warns, bringing a hand up and resting it against the wall beside Rico's head.

As Rico's legs begin to shake, a dangerous smirk stretches across Atsumu's lips, his face inkling closer to Rico's. Atsumu knows this game well. Seduction was something that came as second nature to him and he often flaunted it. Atsumu's lips dance temptingly close to Rico's, the man raising his hands and resting them against Atsumu's chest. Before Atsumu can make Rico submit fully, the doors to HQ fly open.

"Atsumu! Get your ass in here. Kita's been waiting!"

Chuckling as Rico slides down the wall in defeat, Atsumu turns to look at the newcomer, finding Aran, Kita's right hand, standing with arms crossed and an annoyed expression written all over his face.

"I'm comin', just havin' a little fun," Atsumu defends, voice light and airy.

Aran rolls his eyes at Atsumu's admission, the annoyance fading into a fondness. He waves Atsumu over before disappearing back into the warehouse. Before leaving, Atsumu looks back down at Rico, distaste fouling his mouth.

"I don't care what ya think of me. But, at the very least, respect my brother."

Once his words are spoken and everyone near can hear them, he resumes his walking to the doors, Kita no doubt beginning to grow impatient. Putting a hand over his mouth, Atsumu does his best to stifle a yawn as he follows Aran through HQ. A guide isn't necessary, especially not for him, but is a kind gesture. _Maybe it was a good thing Kita sent Aran. If I was left alone I'd 'prolly run straight into a wall at this rate,_ Atsumu muses to himself.

"Any idea about what this job is, big guy?" Atsumu decides to make small talk, trying his best to stay awake.

"I've a clue. But, in case I'm wrong, I'm withholding from telling you anything."

Groaning in irritation, Atsumu picks up his speed, rushing past Aran and closer to Kita's "office". Once the door to his office is in sight, Atsumu all but sprints over to it before nearly tearing the door from its hinges. Inside, Kita rests with his back against the wall, eyes already on the door, anticipating Atsumu's arrival. Kita's hair hangs low and dances in front of his eyes, his arms are crossed and an ever so little smile graces his face.

"Atsumu, sit down please. And be more gentle with my door, I just got it fixed," Kita breathes out in a laugh before moving to his own chair.

"Who broke it last time?" Atsumu asks, upset he missed it.

"You did," Kita retorts, a brow raised in humor.

"Oh."

To hide his embarrassment, Atsumu forces out a hearty laugh and sits on the arm of the leather chair sat across from Kita's. "I forgot about that!"

Kita shakes his head and pulls out a manila folder, sliding a few pieces of paper out of it. Atsumu watches, curious eyes trying to catch a glimpse at the words along the page.

"They're about your job. Would you like to see them?" Kita says while holding a piece of paper out.

Atsumu eyes it for a second before answering, "Nah, I trust ya. What's next for me boss?"

Licking his lips in excitement, he adjusts his seat, actually sitting in the chair. Kita chuckles at Atsumu's reaction, something he'll always find endearing.

Kita leans back in his chair while settling in, eyes locked with Atsumu's as he begins.

"Are you familiar with the famed Tokyo Penitentiary?"

Atsumu rests his elbows on his knees and folds his hands, leaning closer, attention caught.

"Yeah, of course. Most of the inmates are members of old yakuza clans or serious felons,"

"Good, glad you know. There's one person on the inside that has... connections to us. Connections I, or you, don't want leaked to the officials."

"So, what yer sayin' is, ya want me to take care of this person?"

"Yes."

Atsumu sucks in a deep breath and closes his eyes, a plan forming in his head already.

"The penitentiary is heavily guarded so sneaking in is out of the question. Not saying you couldn't do it, I'd rather you didn't." Kita clarifies, undoubtedly knowing that was Atsumu's first plan of action.

"Well, any other ideas?" Atsumu asks, open to all suggestions.

"I've already contacted the main Tokyo yakuza clans that run the city. We're on rather good terms with them and they're willing to overlook a few... "out of clan" crimes. If you know what I mean," Kita says.

Atsumu smirks. Oh yeah, he knew what Kita wanted. Tingles of elation spread through Atsumu's body as he imagined all the fun activities he could do in Tokyo, just to get the attention of the authorities. 

"I don't want you getting to carried away. Don't do something that'll get you locked up for life now. Just something big enough to at least get you detained. Itachiyama will be the main lead on this job. Once you're inside, their leader, Tsukasa Iizuna, will use his influence to have you swiftly transferred to the same cellblock as your target. From there, it'll be up to you to handle things. Once Iizuna has received word of your target's death, he'll pull some strings and get you out of there."

Atsumu nods while taking in the details, a slight feeling of dread washing over him. "What does he want in return?"

Kita stands from his chair and heads towards the little window, peering off into the warehouse courtyard. 

"Well, Kita?"

"He wants a piece of the action. You'll be taking the target out, but Iizuna wants a direct flow of information. For this, he also needs someone on the inside."

"So, yer saying that there'll be someone else other than me going in?"

"Yes. However, Iizuna has reassured me that his contact won't interfere with you or your target. He'll simply just be an observer if you will."

Atsumu nods, waiting for Kita to go on.

"You're target is Kazuma Numai. He-"

"Wait, isn't that a member of Nohebi? Why am I goin' after him?"

Kita sighs, "Well, if you'd let me finish, you'd know."

Atsumu laughs nervously before using his hands to gesture for Kita to go on.

"Kazuma was a member of one of the subgroups based out in Tokyo. He helped handle any sort of clean up and information flow from joint jobs with the other clans. Most noticeably, jobs I had given to you."

Atsumu's lips contort into a small 'o', immediately understanding the severity of the situation.

"For that very reason, he's a threat. Not only to us or you, but to any clan that you had contact with. I've received approval from Nohebi's leader, Kiyoshi Omizu, to "deal" with the problem. However, he wanted you specifically to take Kazuma out."

"Why?"

"Because, it's you he has the most information against."

"But, if I'll be in the same block as him, won't he know it's me?"

"No. He doesn't know what you look like, just your name. The prison uniforms they give at the penitentiary don't name the inmate, they just have assigned numbers."

"Ah, that makes more sense. That way I can go in and use an alias to get close to him without him knowin' it's me."

"Exactly."

A comfortable silence falls into the room as they look at each other, Atsumu thinking about the best way to well... kill in a prison.

"I know that this is risky, Atsumu. But, I wouldn't risk giving this job to anyone else. I know you can get it done and fast too." Kita reassures.

"That's not what I'm worried about, Kita," Atsumu sighs, resting his face in his hands.

"You're worried about 'samu, then?"

Atsumu nods while looking back up at the man before him.

It was risky, but Atsumu was one of his best. Kita knew, that no matter what he asked of Atsumu, the blonde would agree. The only problem was convincing Osamu. 

"What about your brother?"

Atsumu remained silent, his eyes following Kita's movements through his office.

"Leave him to me. But, I need to ask a favor, Kita-sama."

It was incredibly rare for Atsumu to be so formal, especially to Kita.

"Drop the formalities, 'tsumu. We've known each other for far too many years. What can I do for you?"

"'Samu will be suspicious. Even if I tell him the job is safe and can be done alone. He will come to ya for more details. I need ya to lie to him. Tell him it's a basic drug deal in Tokyo and that I'll be back in two weeks time."

Atsumu was right. Osamu would be suspicious. It wouldn't be the first time Kita had sent Atsumu alone on a job, but no matter the details or how Atsumu promised his own safety, Osamu would always go to Kita for proof. Although he hated lying to either twin, this one was inevitable.

"Of course, 'tsumu. Anything to keep him safe, right?"

"Right."

Kita takes his seat once again, smiling softly at Atsumu.

"You leave tomorrow morning. You have a train ride scheduled for ten. You should arrive a little after one in the afternoon. From there, you're on your own."

"Should I pack a bag or anythin'?"

"You're not going on vacation, 'tsumu. Just take your wallet and I.D. Don't carry anything that'll link you to the clan. Otherwise, they'll be suspicious of you and hold you somewhere else and Iizuna won't be able to get to you. Clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

Atsumu heaves himself off the chair and gives Kita one last thumbs up.

"See you soon, 'tsumu. Take care."

"You too, Kita."

* * *

Shutting the door to his shared apartment, Atsumu nearly jumps out of his own skin when he turns to see Osamu standing, shirtless with his arms crossed.

"Dude, yer fucking gross. Cover all those hickey's," Atsumu fake gags while shoving past Osamu and to the kitchen.

"Where the hell have ya been?" 'Samu practically seethes as he stomps after Atsumu.

"Talkin' with Kita 'bout a new job in Tokyo, dumbass."

"Really? What kind of job? When do we leave?"

"Not we," Atsumu points between himself and 'Samu, "but me."

Osamu stays quiet as he watches his brother fuck around, reaching up to grab a box of cereal from the cabinet. Atsumu shoves his hand in the box and pulls out a handful before shoving them ruthlessly into his mouth. Atsumu nearly chokes on the cereal as he looks back to Osamu, a disgusted grimace on his face. 

"He's been sendin' ya on a lot of solo's lately, hasn't he?"

Atsumu raises a brow at Osamu, intrigued.

"Careful, you sound almost worried 'bout me,"

"Yer such a fuckin' scrub. Stop talkin' with yer mouth open!"

Not a word is said between either of them as Atsumu finally manages to swallow the dry cereal in his mouth. Setting the box down, he turns and digs into the fridge, eyes spying a bottle of melon soda. Pulling it out, he quickly pries it open before nearly downing all of the contents.

"Answer me, 'tsumu," Osamu barks.

Rolling his eyes, Atsumu sets the drink down and turns to his brother. Feeling at peace, Atsumu does his best to hide the fond smile threatening to reveal itself.

"He's only been sending me on drug runs and clan deals, 'samu. Ya know that,"

"What's this job then?"

"It's a drug deal in Tokyo. I'll be meeting up with a few other clan members and discussing drug trade and dealer pay," Atsumu lies.

Osamu eyes his brother carefully, stepping closer to him. Once he's arms distance away, he quickly leaps forward and grabs the box of cereal from the counter.

"Hey!" Atsumu shouts while lunging for it.

'Samu backs away quickly and shoves his own hand in the box before pulling out a fist full of cereal and shoving it in his mouth.

"How long will it take ya this time?" 'Samu manages to say between chewing.

"Should be two weeks or less. I doubt it'll be longer than that," Atsumu says.

Before Osamu could shove more cereal into his mouth, a quiet yawn echoes through their apartment, footsteps lightly padding on the carpeted floor in the hall.

"'Samu?" a quiet voice rings through the home.

"In the kitchen, baby," 'Samu calls back, eyes shifted to the passageway of the kitchen.

Atsumu scrunches his nose at the pet name.

"I never understood how ya could call someone somethin' like that. It's... gross," Atsumu fakes a gag once more.

"That's why yer a single fuck," 'Samu teases.

"Maybe yer right," Atsumu murmurs as he watches as Suna finally appears and wraps his arms loosely around his brother's waist.

Suna buries his face into Osamu's chest, the loose shirt he's wearing barely covering his ass.

"When are ya leaving?" 'Samu brings the job up once more.

"Ten. I was thinkin' of gettin' some more shut eye before takin' off. Cool with ya?"

"Go for. Suna and I will keep quiet for ya."

Atsumu says thanks before heading towards the kitchen passageway.

"'Tsumu, come back alive and healthy, yea?" Suna's voice comes out muffled.

"Course, ya ain't gotta worry 'bout me, Suna."

"I'm not. I'm more worried about who'll take care of 'samu with me when he's blackout wasted."

"Rude!"

The three laugh together at Suna's joke, 'Samu's attention wholeheartedly on Suna. Atsumu stands off and watches with joy as he sees 'samu run his hands through Suna's hair. The two slowly forget about Atsumu's presence all together, their sight only on each other. This is one of the things Atsumu always wished he could provide Osamu. Sure, they both had hellish lives that demanded blood prices on their heads; but finding love, true love, was something he always wanted Osamu to have. And now, he's got it.

Deciding it's best to leave the two alone, Atsumu makes it back to his room, the warmth of his bed seeming to be so inviting. Glancing at the clock and seeing it's only three in the morning, Atsumu decides to sleep for another four or so hours. As he falls back into his bed, he stares at the wall beside him, thinking about his new job.

_For a yakuza member to go anywhere near a prison could be a death sentence. To kill inside of one? That hadn't been done in many, many years. I just hope that this goes well. Not for my sake, but for 'Samu's. Who knows what he'd do if I didn't make it back. I wish that day never comes._

Atsumu rolls onto his back and looks up at the cheap glowing stick on stars, the glow nearly faded from the years they've been up there. Down the hall, Atsumu can hear the quiet laughter between his brother and Suna. Knowing his brother is safe and happy is all he needs before sleep finally takes over him, his eyes closing and trapping him in a comforting darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please let me know what you think in the comments! Lots of love <3


	2. Bar Brawl, Prison Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cat calls and snickers from the inmates did nothing but fill Atsumu with erotic joy. Atsumu was well aware of how attractive he was.
> 
> The prison guard rolled his eyes and scoffed at his amused expression. A dull pain danced through his fingers and knuckles from the fight earlier but the bruise on his ribcage ached enough for both injuries. 
> 
> “Welcome to your new home, 69. Good luck,” the man Atsumu had taken to calling “fuckhead one”, said. 
> 
> “What a warm welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Atsumu is such a little shit. He’s also the seductive whore I aspire to be.
> 
> p.s. the currency exchange between Japanese yen and USD is really interesting. My yen to USD probably won't be spot on. I looked up 200 yen for example and it's a little under 2 USD.

The train ride to Tokyo was dull and cramped. If there was one thing Atsumu hated more than anything, it was traveling via train to his next job. Rolling his shoulders, Atsumu walked aimlessly down the bustling streets of Tokyo. It wasn’t his first time here, nor will it be the last, but the streets were still just as confusing. 

Irritated and tired, a whiny moan escapes the man as he stomps his foot and looks around. 

“‘Samu is always the mapper, damnit!”

Looking for any familiar street signs, Atsumu sees a small group of women dressed in business attire.

”Bingo~” Atsumu sings, a cheeky smile on his face.

Confidently, Atsumu strolls over to them, hands buried deep in his pockets. A woman who appears to be no more than 30 spots him first. Still a bit far, Atsumu can’t hear anything she says to her friends, but it’s clear she makes his presence known.   
  
The three woman turn their eyes on him as he steps closer. From this distance, Atsumu can clearly see the rings on their fingers. _Should be a piece of cake,_ Atsumu thinks to himself.

”Hello, ladies. I’m new to Tokyo and I was wonderin’ if ya could show me around?” 

The first woman who noticed him steps closer, brown eyes calculating and cautious. As she circles him, he holds her gaze, her curiosity now piqued. 

“You sure you’re lost and not just looking for a lay? ‘Cause we’re not them types of women,” she says.

”Believe me, darlin’; those rings on your fingers are enough proof for me,” Atsumu probes, smoothly tilting the corner of his lips up into a half smile. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Atsumu can see who he believes to be the youngest of the three step up, her face flushed.

”Excuse me, sir?” she nearly whispers.

Turning his attention to her, Atsumu looks down at the woman, expression soft.

”Yes, ma’am?” 

Her body trembles as he speaks. It’s not an unusual reaction from a woman. His voice and words are laced with a sickly sweet honey and are drowning in unspoken passion.

"Is there something you're looking for?" she asks, voice more confident than before.

"Well, I would say ya and yer rather cute blushin' face but I'm afraid I'm a little too late," Atsumu coos.

Carefully taking her hand in his, Atsumu brings her hand to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on delicate skin. While his lips are brushing her skin he feels the goosebumps rise on her flesh.

"Oh, please, I'm sure you could do better than me,"

"I don't think so," Atsumu says.

The other two women who were watching this unfold stare enviously, rather striking bright red blushes adorning their cheeks. Honestly, this was Atsumu's least favorite form of seduction. Women wandering the street like this, married but clearly lonely and unsatisfied, were too easy. He knew what they wanted to hear. He knew what they needed to feel. It was child's play really.

"But," Atsumu finally decides to break the ice, "if ya really wanna help me out, can ya point me to the closest bar? My cell died on the train and I need to call a friend."

"What do I get in return for helping you, young man?"

"Will a passionate kiss anywhere ya wish suffice?"

The three women cheer and begin to argue over who helps him first. Atsumu stands off to the side and watches them curse one another, the situation rather funny. _It's a bummer 'samu isn't here. He'd love this,_ Atsumu makes a mental note to tell him about it when he returns home.

After what seems like forever, the three women decide to let the eldest tell him. A woman with dark black hair and blue eyes steps up to him. _Seems like colored contacts are fashionable again. Maybe I'll wear some on my next job? How old is she? Definitely older than 30. 40 maybe?_

"Have ya decided?"

"Yes. I'm faithful to my husband, but I would like a kiss on my cheek if you don't mind?" her voice is clearly filled with knowledge and wisdom well beyond Atsumu's years. 

"Sure ma'am. Now, where should I be headin'?"

Atsumu reaches forward and tucks her hair behind her ear, effectively pulling a smile from her.

"Continue on down this street and take a left at the next crosswalk. There should be a bar right on the corner. Last I was there it was filled with pretty women your own age," she chides.

Chuckling, Atsumu leans down and presses his lips against her cheek. He tries his best to ignore the scent of makeup and nasty sweet scented perfume. The woman sighs in contentment as Atsumu backs away, her shoulders relaxed and eyes closed.

"Thank ya, very much," Atsumu says.

Hurriedly walking away, Atsumu can just barely hear their conversation as he leaves.

"That was so unfair, mother!"

"Yeah, nana! It's not often a man that handsome approaches us!"

Shaking his head, Atsumu rounds the corner and looks up at the awning above him, a sign reading _Snakes' Den_ in big green letters catching his attention.

"Prolly owned by someone in Nohebi then. Well, at least they've given approval for this job," Atsumu yawns before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

No one bothers to look in his direction, his arrival completely ignored. Sucking on his own tongue in distaste, Atsumu makes his way towards the bar, a young man serving guests. As he takes his seat, Atsumu gazes around the room, trying to find the best person to pester. Not finding anyone worthy of his attention, Atsumu scowls and waves the barkeep over.

"What can I get you, sir?"

"Just a shot of whiskey," Atsumu orders, sliding two hundred yen across the bar.

The barkeep stores the yen away and places a shot glass with the respected drink in front of him. Grabbing the drink, Atsumu heads off to a corner table, squeezing himself between the large crowd. Men and women alike dance and flirt with each other all the while drinking to their heart's content. _I guess there really are day drinkers, aye? Their parents must be so proud of 'em,_ Atsumu humors himself while sipping his shot.

Normally, he'd swing his head back and down it in one gulp, but his stomach is to busy churning over the details of his contract. On the way here Kita had sent Atsumu a new picture of his target and confirmed that 'samu had in fact visited him for more details. Pulling his burner phone out, Atsumu scrolls through his messages with Kita, going over the small list of things Kazuma Numai had an aversion to. Such as blood and vomit; just for an example. Atsumu stops scrolling when he catches sight of the name of Iizuna's undercover informant; _Sakusa Kiyoomi._ Atsumu wasn't sure what he looked like or acted like, but he already didn't like him. Just the sight of his name alone made him feel irritated.

"At least he won't interfere with my job, or so Kita says," Atsumu sighs before deleting the whole conversation from the phone.

Once he's sure all evidence is gone, Atsumu drops the phone onto the ground before viciously slamming his foot down on top of it, the screen splintering and flying across the floor. Digging his heel into the phone for good measure, Atsumu swiftly kicks it across the bar floor, the smooshed object disappearing into the crowds feet. 

"Time to get this show on the road!" Atsumu hypes himself up before slamming back his shot, the alcohol burning his throat on the way down.

Shaking his head to rid the feeling, Atsumu stands and eyes the crowd once more, his gaze settling on a large and fairly well-built man. Gripping the glass in his hand, Atsumu focuses his aim on said man. Once he's sure to hit his mark, Atsumu reels his arm back before catapulting the glass over the heads of innocent bystanders. Everything goes in slow motion for Atsumu as he watches the glass make contact with the man's head, pieces of glass shooting off in other directions as some sink into his skin.

"Ugh, fuck!" the man screams out, fists slamming onto the table.

A deranged laugh tears itself from Atsumu's throat as the crowd falls silent, every man and woman looking between the two.

"Looks like I hit my mark," Atsumu taunts.

Blood trickles down the side of the man's face as he storms over to a cocky and relaxed Atsumu. _If looks could kill I'd be long dead,_ Atsumu thinks to himself. The man grips the collar of Atsumu's shirt, eyes boring holes into his own.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Me? Well, thanks for askin'. I'm Miya Atsumu, you?"

The man's body trembles with rage, his free hand balling into a fist.

"You clearly don't have any manners, country boy. How about I teach you some?"

"Go on, try it," Atsumu spits in the man's face, adrenaline racing through his body.

His opponent lets out a wild scream while dropping Atsumu's shirt, swinging his fist down for a punch.

Without so much as flinching, Atsumu grabs onto the man's fist, holding it in place.

"Too slow," Atsumu all but sings as his own fist connects with the man's jaw, sending him flying to the ground.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

The crowd errupts into cheers, prepared for a good show. Standing back up, the man wobbles on his feet.

"Don't tell me that little punch nearly did ya in? And I though ya were gonna teach me manners?" Atsumu laughs.

Underestimating his foe, Atsumu is caught off guard when a strong punch lands square in the center of his ribcage, knocking the air from his lungs. Coughing, Atsumu huddles over, hand coming up and gripping at his side. Off balance, the next hit lands perfectly against his stomach making Atsumu fall to his knees. Little black dots cloud Atsumu's vision as he stares at the man's feet, impatience and bloodlust clouding his judgement. 

"That's enough."

Atsumu can barely recognize his own voice, the timbre of his voice gruff and deadly.

"What're you gonna do about, huh, fucker? Gonna run home and cry to mommy?" 

Atsumu's blood runs cold as the words leave the man's mouth, his vision turning red. While the man leans back to choke out a hearty laugh, he's unaware of Atsumu slowly standing and reaching for a long abandoned beer bottle on the table next to his own. 

"Look out dude!"

"Huh?" the man whirls to face Atsumu once more, again, too late.

Without a second thought, Atsumu swings the glass bottle down onto the man's skull, shattering it in half. The man stumbles back a bit, glass fragments now in two places. Blood trickles from his forehead down his nose and over his lips, a red trail left behind. Not giving him a chance to recover, Atsumu lunges forward and traps the man in a headlock. With the man's chin buried in the crook of Atsumu's arm, he applies pressure to cut off all air. As the man gasps for breath, Atsumu brings the glass bottle down onto his skull again, the remaining glass embedding itself into both the skull and Atsumu's fingers. 

"Maybe ya should learn to watch yer fuckin' tongue," Atsumu growls, now using his free hand to fist the man's hair.

Protests from the spectators can barely be heard as pure rage and adrenaline dictates Atsumu's next move. In mere seconds Atsumu sprints to the nearby brick wall, the man still held in his grasp.

"Wait, wait!" the man bellows out.

"Better shut that trap of yers," Atsumu warns just before slamming the man's face into the wall.

A sick crack echoes through the now silent bar. The man screams out in blistering pain while desperately trying to break free from Atsumu's grip.

"Wanna talk shit again, big guy?" Atsumu raises his voice and goes to slam the man's face in the wall once more.

A pathetic sob breaks through the man's bloodied spit gurgles. Just before his face can hit brick again, Atsumu drops him to the floor. Staring down at the man, Atsumu smirks in delight when he sees the broken nose and dislocated jaw. _I'm sure his friends will have a hard time recognizing him now,_ Atsumu nearly doubles over in laughter as he watches him crawl back in fear.

"Where're ya goin'? There's still plenty of fun for us," Atsumu torments, following after the man.

He doesn't feel the sting of the glass shards in his fingers as he cracks his already busted up knuckles. The man hurriedly shakes his head no, desperately trying to plead for mercy.

"Did I knock out one too many teeth? Oops, my bad," Atsumu chuckles.

Before Atsumu can continue his beating, he freezes at the sound of a gun cocking. 

"Put your hands were I can see them!"

Looking over his shoulder, Atsumu eyes the three armed policemen standing behind him, their faces shielded by protective coverings.

"Put your hands where I can see them! Now!" the middleman, maybe the leader, barks out again.

Raising his hands in submission, Atsumu slowly turns around facing the three.

"You're late to the party boys'."

* * *

It didn't take nearly as long as Atsumu assumed it would to be transferred from a detainment cell to the penitentiary. During his little wait, the officers who had arrested him made sure to process him and check all his belongings. Much to the officers exasperation, they couldn't finish their processing without removing the glass from Atsumu's hand and bandaging his knuckles. Good for him really - it meant no infections. Once his prints were taken and black ink stained his fingertips, they led Atsumu down another corridor.

"Strip," his guarding officer ordered.

"Is this where ya do an anal cavity search? I must warn ya, there's no tellin' what you'll fin-" Atsumu is cut off by a disgusted grunt and grabby hands pulling at his shirt.

"Hey, back off! I can do it! I was just messin' about!" Atusmu shouts in defiance, backing away from the officer.

Having been uncuffed once inside the room, Atsumu easily strips from his shirt and pants, kicking both articles of clothing to the other side of the room.

"Briefs too."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Atsumu sighs while pulling his briefs down, letting them fall to his ankles.

"Using the table next to you, assume the position."

"Which one? The one where I'm getting railed? Or the one where-"

Again, Atsumu is interrupted when two gloved hands press against his back with diligence, shoving his chest into the table. Resisting his urge to "moan", Atsumu complies with the movements, his legs spread and ass out in the air. _How long has it been since I was the one being bent over? Maybe I should get railed when this job is over-_

Atsumu's thoughts stop short when two jellied fingers slip inside of him, poking and prodding. He's done his research on anal searches. They're not meant to be something pleasurable, but the old familiar tingly sensation of a sweet feeling he hasn't felt in a while is still there. _I for sure need to get fucked._

The officer behind him quite audibly gags as he searches. Atsumu snorts at the man's weak will.

"Don't ya do this for a livin'? Ya can't even finger fuck a man without gaggin'? Pathetic."

"Will you shut the fuck up!" the officer shouts while pulling his fingers out and standing straight.

"Rude. Ya could say please," Atsumu whines, following the officer's lead.

"Pull your briefs back on. There's a little stack of clothes beside you. A pair of pants and a shirt with your inmate number on it. Put them on."

The officer continues to speak in short and bland sentences, all fiery hatred bottled back up. Not having the motivation to argue back, Atsumu grabs the clothes and slips into them. The black slacks he's given are reminiscent of hospital scrubs. The shirt, similar in fashion to the pants, is white with long-sleeves and big black numbers on the back. Curious, Atsumu glances at his number and nearly loses his composure when he sees he's number 69.

"From this moment on, you're no longer "Miya Atsumu", but instead Inmate 69. Am I clear?" the officer moves behind Atsumu and reattaches the cuffs around his wrist.

Atsumu is pushed back towards the door he came in from, his body completely relaxed. Once he's out in the corridor again, he's passed on to a new officer, the expression on his face even more grim than the last. _I should start giving these assholes names. This one can be... "fuckhead one",_ Atsumu decides. As Atsumu and this new officer walk down the hall together, the shouts of inmates nearby echo around them. Atsumu decides now is a good time to take in his surroundings.

The floor itself is a standard gray cement, cracks and crevices from years of use wearing it down. The walls are made of brick, some portions clearly newer than others; renovation having been done. The doors along the walls are labeled and easy to read, one reading _Security_ , and another reading _Officer Restroom_. A few doors down from that Atsumu spots an _Officers' Lounge_

 _That must be where the on duty officers' go during a shift_ _change,_ Atsumu does his best to remember each door and turn that they take. As they approach a large set of doors, Atsumu can't help but notice how they seem like the doors in hospitals - heavy and incredibly hard to open once locked. _Guess it's a good thing I had that one job at the local hospital in Hyogo._

The officer pushes the doors open, revealing what was on the other side. Like animals trapped in a pin, inmates scream and holler at one another from across the hall. Some are very clearly seniors that have been here for many years, and others, like Atsumu, are new comers.

"You'll be in Cellblock H, in cells 34D through 65D. You're cellmate will be Inmate 133. I'm sure you'll get along just fine."

Something in the way the officer spoke those last few words sends chills of dread down Atsumu's spine. At the sound of the officer's voice, his fellow inmates quiet down and focus their attention onto Atsumu and the officer.

"We've got new blood!"

The cat calls and snickers from the inmates did nothing but fill Atsumu with erotic joy. Atsumu was well aware of how attractive he was.

The prison guard rolled his eyes and scoffed at his amused expression. A dull pain danced through his fingers and knuckles from the fight earlier but the bruise on his ribcage ached enough for both injuries. 

“Welcome to your new home, 69. Good luck,” the man Atsumu had taken to calling “fuckhead one”, said. 

“What a warm welcome.”


	3. Inmate 69: Tsuka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The makeshift volleyball court was packed with inmates of all variety. A team rested on either side of the net, Block G vs. Block H.
> 
> "So, Tsuka, care to join us for a match?"
> 
> "Thanks for the offer 'n all Ram, but I'll pass this time, all this excitements got me tired," Atsumu declines.
> 
> Ram scoffs before heading over to Team H, tearing his shirt off to welcome the blazing sun on his back. Atsumu eyes the discarded clothing, an idea slowly taking root.
> 
> "That could be useful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! Out of all the fics I've written, on this site and others, this will be my first prison-centered "arc". I apologize in advance for anything I may get wrong or overdo. Hope you enjoy!

Cellblock H turned out to be rather large. To Atsumu, it seemed almost as if it was it's own facility. Just glancing around at his fellow inmates, he could easily point out the ones who had previously been yakuza - their time spent in this hell hole undoubtedly aging them quicker. As 'fuckhead one' continued to push him through the block, janitorial staff and other officers hurried out of their way, scurrying in all directions.

"Who the fuck is that?" a deep voice echoes through the common room.

"Don't know, but he sure is a cutie," a shrill voice answers.

 _Was that a woman? Huh, I never would've imagined they kept men and women together,_ bewildered, Atsumu makes another mental note to try and hunt down the voice later.

More rumors can be heard spreading through the air. It's all quite funny to Atsumu. As he focuses on the route the officer is taking him, he tries his best to memorize the labeled doors and their uses. Laundry, restrooms, a gym is even among them. _Well, shit. Apart from sharing a room with someone this place would be a perfect vacation resort. 'Samu is missing out,_ at the thought of his brother, Atsumu's ego deflates slightly.

"Right after this corner is the cells. Yours will be the fifth one on the left. Your number and your cellmates number will be labeled on the door."

'Fuckhead one's' voice startles him, Atsumu visibly jumping.

"What? You're not going to lay me down yourself?"

Not giving Atsumu the satisfaction of a response, the officer continues his job of removing the cuffs. Once free, Atsumu rubs his hands over the sensitive skin of his wrists.

"Your cellmate can show you around during free time. Breakfast is held in the shared cafeteria of both Block G and H, at eight thirty sharp. Lunch will take place at noon exactly, and dinner will be at five on the dot. If you miss either meal, you'll be left hungry until the next one. Clear?"

Nodding, Atsumu turns to look at the officer.

"When do we shower? And when and what exactly is 'free time'?"

"Block H has scheduled showers immediately after breakfast, and again after dinner if you prefer two a day. Free time is from one to dinner and again from six to lights out. Free time allows inmates like yourself to... fill your basic needs. Such as social interaction amongst each other. You'll have access to the yard for fresh air and outdoor sports, you can take your spare uniforms to the laundry and a janitorial staff will wash them for you and return your clothes to your cell,"

"Other than at meals, does Block G and Block H ever interact?"

"During free time in the yard. If an inmate has been rewarded for good behavior, they can travel between each block and visit other inmates. Any more questions?"

"Well, actually-"

"No? Good. Go meet your cellmate," fuckhead one dismisses Atsumu as he turns to walk away, the cuffs once adorning his wrists now hanging from a utility belt.

Shrugging of the annoyance his rude departure caused, Atsumu rounds the corner and starts his short trip down the hall of cells, luckily being on the first of three floors from what he knows. Stopping at the fifth cell to his left, Atsumu reads the label aloud.

"Cell 37D, Inmate Number 133, and Inmate Number 69."

Taking a deep breath to calm his growing nerves, Atsumu prepares to open the door. As the door slides open, Atsumu can't help but notice how incredibly... light the door is.

"I know, right? You'd think for being a prison they'd be harder to open."

Looking in the direction of the voice, Atsumu sees an older man with long brown hair, his eyes covered from the unruly bangs resting against his face. The man's rather large stomach bounces as he walks over to Atsumu, holding a hand out to shake. Atsumu eyes it warily.

"Sorry, but I'm not shakin' hands with someone who looks like they'd choke me in my sleep."

After a moment of silence and Atsumu's mild panic of thinking he'd said something wrong already, Inmate 133 throws his head back into a laugh, he shoulders shaking from the intensity. Atsumu stares at him, dumbfounded.

133 wipes tears away from his eyes while straightening his back, looking at Atsumu once more.

"That's a good call, boy. I had half the mind to throw you onto the floor in greetin'. Come on in now, and tell me why you're here."

Relief floods Atsumu as he steps into his shared cell. He takes in the sight of their quarters while speaking.

"Name's Tsuka. I got into a pretty bad bar fight this morn' and ended up here," Atsumu withholds the truth, or at least a part of it.

"Bar fight, aye? Did you give the poor fool a chance?"

"He got a few hits in," Atsumu admits, lifting his shirt to show the man his side.

"Ouch. It should go away in a few days if you're lucky. You feelin' lucky?"

"Well, so far I've gotten a pretty decent cellmate, so maybe I am?" Atsumu decides.

Humming in recognition, 133 walks to the other side of the room and sits on his rickety old bunk. Taking the chance, Atsumu sits on his own directly across from his cellmate's. 

"Ya know 'bout me. What 'bout ya?" Atsumu asks.

"Well," 133 sighs, "there ain't much to tell. I've been here for so long now it kinda gets fuzzy you know?"

"Well old man, do ya at least remember yer name?"

"Would you believe me if I said, no?"

"Nope."

133 laughs again.

"Man, boy, you sure know how to make an old fuck like me laugh."

The two fall into an easy silence, Atsumu looking around their cell. At the foot of his bunk, Atsumu sees a small cabinet capable of holding a few things. _During the ride in the men who arrested me mentioned the commissary sold locks among other things. I should stop by and grab some stuff. Bargainin' chips would be nice._

"Whatcha thinkin' boy?"

"Just wonderin' if the commissary is open. Do ya know?"

"Yeah, open until dinner. Need somethin'?"

"I wanted ta get some... bargainin' items, ya know? Like some smokes maybe."

133 nods his head before standing from his bunk and heading for the door.

"You comin' or do you need an invite?"

Atsumu laughs.

"Now who's crackin' jokes?"

"You got me there!"

Atsumu follows his cellmate out into the hall, a few other inmates eye Atsumu with a burning curiosity. As the two walk through the cell hall, Atsumu notices most cells are empty.

"It's free time now, right?"

"Yeah, two hours until dinner so everyone's doing their own thing."

As they take a left into a wide open hall with from what Atsumu can tell, multiple doors, Atsumu suddenly gets an uneasy feeling. _I'm bein' watched. That Sakusa guy, maybe?_ Atsumu is forced out of his thoughts when 133 takes quick turn into an open door, the sign above it reads, _Commissary_. Stepping through the door, Atsumu finds himself quite pleased with what he sees and lets his cellmate know just that with a few words of approval.

"Yeah, it's kinda like a corner store. Take a look 'round and pick out what you need. I've got a few things to get myself," with that, 133 walks off.

Atsumu traverses the aisles, the shelves stocked full with varying items. One shelf has canned tuna and other little snacks for in between meals. Another has batteries and much to Atsumu's joy, combination locks. Stalking over to them, Atsumu grabs two, wanting an extra just in case. Following the signs above the shelves, Atsumu makes his way to an aisle that focuses on drinks.

"Hoarding water isn't such a bad idea," Atsumu murmurs while picking up two bottled waters as well.

Atsumu takes a few steps back away from the shelf, not noticing where he's going. Suddenly, his back collides with another. Tense, Atsumu turns to face the person he's run into. 

"Sorry, 'bout that. I was-" the words die in his throat as the man turns to face Atsumu, his black curly hair mused and resting against his forehead.

Eyes such a deep shade of brown that they nearly appear black stare into Atsumu's own. An unfamiliar feeling pools in his stomach as Atsumu and this stranger hold eye contact. The two moles above the man's right brow would've been completely unnoticeable if Atsumu wasn't this close to him. Suddenly, the man takes a step forward making Atsumu take one back. The game of chase continues until Atsumu is pressed back against the shelf, bottles of water knocking over with the sudden force. Atsumu's throat is dry and sore as the man reaches behind him, one of the black curls tickling Atsumu's own forehead. Having grabbed a bottle of water, the man backs away from Atsumu, the edge of his thumb brushing against Atsumu's sleeve as he moves. Atsumu watches as this inmate, Inmate 68, walks away.

Atsumu's vision blurs and refocuses a few times, his heart racing a million miles a minute.

"Tsuka? You alright there?" 133's voice pulls him back to reality.

"Yeah, 'm fine. Let's go pay for this stuff," Atsumu tries to laugh off the weird feeling still swirling in his stomach.

Atsumu's legs feel like jelly as he works his way to the cashier, an officer who is clearly tired. Placing his items on the counter, an array of different cigarettes behind the counter catch his attention.

"Need a pack?" the officer asks.

"Just one. Any kind will do."

The officer nods and reaches blindly for a pack, scanning the items before shoving them back into Atsumu's hands.

"Inmate number?"

"69."

"You're all set,"

Turning to look at 133, Atsumu says, "I'll meet ya back in the cell. See ya soon."

133 shouts his agreement as Atsumu leaves the commissary, waters tucked under his arm while he clutches onto his locks and smokes for safety. The hall is just about empty as Atsumu makes his way back, a good thing especially to him. Once safely inside his cell, Atsumu squats down in front of his cabinet before placing his items inside, except for one lock. The combination with the lock is rather a simple one to remember so Atsumu folds the little paper and tucks it into the cabinet as well. _Good, there's still plenty of room for some other things,_ Atsumu notes.

Locking his cabinet, he stands and stretches, 133 stepping in not even a minute later.

"I see you made it back alive!"

"Course, I'm not a weak baby," Atsumu says while sitting on his bed.

"I can see that," 133 admits.

As 133 continues to talk out his ass, Atsumu falls back onto his bunk, eyes glued to the ceiling. He begins to think to himself once more; _I should really go out during free time and try to find Kazuma. I need to know more about the social hierarchy here and if he falls low or high on the chain. I don't even have a plan for killing yet. God damn, is this goin' to be a rough one._

As 133 continues to rave on about what Atsumu thinks is dinner plans, he interrupts, "So, who's in "charge" of Block H? I remember hearin' stories from some of my old friends sayin' that certain people would take charge?"

"Ah, I wondered when you'd ask 'bout that."

Atsumu looks at him with a raised brow, waiting for depth.

"Right. Just recently Block H had a... power struggle if you will. The previous leader managed to file for parole and was released. After that, a bit of a challenge was decided. Whoever could bed the most people from Block G could take the spot as leader."

Surprised, Atsumu slowly sits back up, legs crossed and a question on the tip of his tongue.

"How would havin' sex with another block inmate work given how we're separated?"

"Oh ho ho, curious now?"

Atsumu glares at 133.

Rolling his eyes, he goes on, "During free time we're allowed to go pretty much anywhere we want. With the exception of another block unless you're favored by the guards or have good behavior. The only time Block G and H are together is during meals and free time in the yard. We're all still human and need to use the restroom right? Well, there are a few different bathrooms attached to the cafeteria."

133 stops explaining, looking at Atsumu to see if he gets the full picture. He does.

"Glad you get the idea. Anyway, to provide proof that they were getting laid, the inmates fighting for leadership of H would have one other inmate inside the bathroom with them, witness to the whole thing. The currently leader of H, Ram, managed to fuck three and a half people before the challenge was shut down. He won by default."

"How does someone fuck half a person?" Atsumu snorts.

"He was caught balls deep inside a newcomer from G," 133 laughs.

"So, this Ram guy, what's he like?"

"You'll meet 'im at dinner. Ram and I are quite close, distant relatives."

Atsumu drops the conversation at that, falling back into the bed.

"You look like shit, y'know? I can wake you before dinner if you want?"

"Please do."

* * *

True to his word, 133 woke Atsumu up with ten minutes to spare before dinner. Once they arrived at the cafeteria, Atsumu was relatively surprised to see how many other inmates were already sat down with their meal. Their journey through the meal line was quick and painless, the kitchen staff moved effortlessly and made their trays quickly.

"Follow me. I'll take you to meet Ram. I usually eat as his table anyway," 133 says.

Atsumu nods and follows along, large round table sitting in the far right corner of the cafeteria seeming to be his destination. As the two walk, inmates Atsumu hasn't met or seen yet look at him with different expressions. Some were curious, some malicious, and other's were quite clearly sexually depraved and desperate looks. As they draw closer to the table Atsumu hears a familiar deep voice; the one he heard from the common room this morning.

"Ah, Jiro, 'bout time you joined us, you bastard! Who've you got with ya?"

"This here is Tsuka, my new cellmate. Play nice 'im, Ram," 133, or rather, Jiro, says.

Atsumu whispers a very quiet, 'what the fuck', at the unfamiliar name. It catches the attention of the whole table.

"Sit down, boy! You're makin' a scene!" Ram grabs a hold of Atsumu's arm and yanks him into the free seat next to him.

"I take it good ole Jiro left his name out?" Ram goads. 

"Yeah, he did," Atsumu glares in Jiro's direction.

Said man just laughs at Atsumu's displeasure.

"So, how'd ya get in?" Ram asks.

As Atsumu opens his mouth to explain, Jiro beats him to it, sharing Atsumu's story with a grandeur and adding details Atsumu knows aren't true.

Ram's boisterous laughs brings a dull headache to Atsumu, everything in him telling him to shut the man up. Ram sighs happily while turning to look at Atsumu again who is cautiously digging into a thick slop like dish.

"This is supposed to be miso soup?" Atsumu snorts while inspecting the slop.

"You really are new, huh, kid?"

Atsumu looks to Ram and nods once before reluctantly taking a bite. Much to his surprise, Atsumu finds it to taste better than it looks. _Still doesn't beat 'samu's cookin',_ Atsumu thinks.

"Did Jiro talking you about our hazing ritual?"

"Hazing? No, not a word."

"Can't say I'm surprised," Ram looks to Jiro, "You were supposed to tell 'im this shit, man. You're his cellmate!"

"Slipped my mind!"

Atsumu can't like and say he isn't amused by their antics. They kind of remind him of himself and Osamu.

"What's the ritual?"

Ram chuckles before taking a drink of his bottled water, eyes scanning the cafeteria. Another inmate answers instead.

"It's different for everyone. Ram is probably thinking of yours now," a man with dyed blue hair explains.

"Tell me somethin', Tsuka. Would you say your up for a challenge?" Ram cuts in.

"Depends,"

"There's an inmate in our block that's been here for three days now. Hasn't said a word to the lot of us. I want you to get his attention,"

'How so, and who?"

Ram smirks.

"I'm sure you've heard about how I took over Block H, right?"

Atsumu nods, a little concerned about what's next.

"Don't piss yourself now, but all I want from you, is to go up to him and manage to get your tongue down his throat. Can you manage?"

Atsumu blanches. _I can't decline this, especially if it gets me in good with their group. Just please don't be someone gross,_ Atsumu pleads to any gods who may be listening.

"Which inmate?"

"That's more like it!" Ram cheers while roughly patting Atsumu on the back.

The rest of the group cheers.

"Well?" Atsumu probes.

"Ah, he's the one sitting alone by the restrooms, do you see him?"

Atsumu looks for the bathroom signs and sure enough, he can see the inmate. His stomach nearly falls through his ass when he sees the man sitting there, back turned to the table and legs spread in a lazy manner.

"Inmate number 68. No one has heard his voice or knows his name. He just... sits there acting like a prick. Hasn't even looked our way... until today."

The other four inmates at the table collectively 'ooh' and giggle at Ram's words.

"I've noticed him lookin' at you a few times and thought, well, let's give him what he wants! Clearly your attention, right!" Ram elbows Atsumu's side, brushing against the bruise.

Atsumu counts the guards that are present, only five, all carrying sidearms in case of emergency.

'Will the guards do something to stop it?"

"Nah. As long as you're both clothed they couldn't care less. Feel free to pop a boner too if you'd like," Ram says.

That strange feeling pools in Atsumu's belly again as he stands, not giving himself time to back out. 

"Watch and learn boys," Atsumu banters.

That earned him some more laughs and cheers of good will. Making his way over to 68, he watches as the inmate looks at him. A small frown graces his lips as Atsumu approaches and it takes everything in Atsumu not to scowl in return. Now in front of 68, Atsumu crosses his arms and looks down, his back facing Ram and the other's at the table; he can practically feel their eyes boring holes into the back of his head.

68 opens his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Atsumu.

"Haze. Deal with it."

With that being said, Atsumu quickly rests his hands against the table on either side of 68, the inmate pressing his back against the edge of the table, eliciting a hiss from his mouth. Leaning down, Atsumu lets the tip of his nose gently brush against 68's, giving the man a second to prepare himself. Hot and ragged breath fans against Atsumu's face as they stare into each others eyes. The black curly hair that had tickled his forehead at the commissary this morning is currently clipped back with a small hair pin, giving Atsumu a full view of his face. 

Their interaction gathers the attention of every inmate in the cafeteria; the once quiet background noise of people yelling and laughing reduced to nothing but a few heated whispers of gossip. 68 growls out quietly as a warning, one ignored by Atsumu. Not wasting another second, Atsumu gently pushes his lips against the smooth and plump one's of 68. The man below him tenses for a second before giving in to his fate. Atsumu, feeling slightly put-off from how this is playing out, makes sure to give the man room to escape if he so chooses. As their lips slide together slowly and effortlessly, Atsumu can barely keep track of the hot tingling sensation traveling through his body.

"Tongue! Tongue! Tongue!" Ram's voice starts the cheer only for it to be echoed by every inmate in the cafeteria.

Atsumu nips harshly at 68's bottom lip, a shocked gasp coming as a response. Taking the cue, 68 opens his mouth a little more for Atsumu, letting the blonde glide his tongue inside. Enjoying himself, Atsumu presses harder against the man, their saliva mixing deliciously with the other's. In the heat of the moment, Atsumu climbs into 68's lap, a knee on either side of his waist, ass just barely hovering over 68's crotch.

68 lets Atsumu have control, his tongue weakly but skillfully moving along with Atsumu's, hands resting on Atsumu's thighs. The crowd goes wild as the two continue to kiss, neither relenting. Atsumu peaks an eye open to find the man's eyes closed shut - but, when feeling Atsumu's gaze, one opens. Atsumu feels his body practically melt just from the look in his eye. Even though Atsumu is straddling him with a tongue down his throat, the man is perfectly calm, not a single ounce of submission or embarrassment to be seen. Unease and anger take root in Atsumu's body, but so does admiration. It's been a long time since he's kissed someone so messily like this and that person remained calm. Much to his surprise, a large hand grabs ahold of his left ass cheek, squeezing hard. Atsumu can't help the moan that lips past his lips and into the other's mouth.

"Five minutes left! Five minutes left!"

The announcement barrels through the cafeteria over the intercom. Using that as a good signal, Atsumu pulls away from the kiss. A strand of mixed saliva connects the two inmates, their eyes focused on one another. A cocky smirk now holds the place where 68's frown was. Hot irritation runs through Atsumu as he climbs off the man. Once he's standing tall and overlooking 68, Atsumu wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, breaking their connection.

Not giving the man another glance, Atsumu turns and heads back towards Ram and the others, the table still cheering for them.

"That was fucking fantastic, Tsuka!"

"I knew you had it in ya, boy!"

Their praise makes Atsumu smile, delighted that he's mixed in with the group already.

"What's next?" Atsumu licks his lips while sitting beside Ram.

"Nothin', boy. You've proved yourself alright! That was one hot tongue fuck!" Ram slings an arm over Atsumu's shoulder, leaning into him.

As the group cleans their table, a nice small talk begins to start, everyone sharing laughs and jokes. Some even go so far as to talk about their most recent sexual conquests. Atsumu stays silent, just enjoying their stories up until Ram waves him, or rather, his Tsuka personality over. Strolling up to him, Atsumu raises an eyebrow in question.

"Have you been out to the yard yet? Get some fresh air maybe?"

"No, I've not. You offerin'?" Atsumu jokes.

"Damn straight I am. I'm showerin' once we're allowed to leave, but I'll swing by your cell and pick ya up. Just be ready!"

* * *

True to his word, Ram had picked Atsumu up from his cell not to long later. Jiro stayed behind in their cell wanting to have a "moment alone", leaving Ram in charge of Atsumu's safety. The trip to the yard was fairly quick and as soon as they were close enough, Atsumu could hear the laughs from the inmates outside.

"You've got quite a nice build. Do you work out often? Or play sports?" Ram asks as they step outside, lightly blinding each of them for a moment.

Blinking away the bright light, Atsumu answers, "Yeah, I keep up on my fitness. Not played a sport in a while though," Atsumu admits.

"Well, you can pick one up again while you're here. There's basketball, volleyball... and I think that's it?" Ram scratches his head while looking around. "Or, you could participate in arm wrestling or cards. Most folks out here usually bet items from commissary, like smokes or postage stamps."

"I didn't know that, thanks for tellin' me," Atsumu muses while watching two men wrestle on the ground.

"Aye-o, Ram! We're playing a match, you and your new friend care to join?" a man with a shaved head and a tiny tattoo by the corner of his eye calls out.

"That's Akio, he was second in line for Block H leadership. Don't get to comfortable around him, that man's a snake," Ram quietly whispers before shouting, "I'm down, you fuck! What position?"

"Spiker is all that's left!"

"Fuck yeah!"

Ram cracks his knuckles and looks to the opposite side of the court, Atsumu following his gaze.

"Who's on each team?" Atsumu asks.

"Akio and I are playing with Team H, for out block. The other team is made of inmates from Block G. That's how most games we play are."

The makeshift volleyball court was packed with inmates of all variety. A team rested on either side of the net, Block G vs. Block H.

"So, Tsuka, care to join us for a match?"

"Thanks for the offer 'n all Ram, but I'll pass this time, all this excitements got me tired," Atsumu declines.

Ram scoffs before heading over to Team H, tearing his shirt off to welcome the blazing sun on his back. Atsumu eyes the discarded clothing, an idea slowly taking root.

"That could be useful."

As the other men focus on the game, Atsumu walks over to the shirt and picks it up, folding it neatly. Keeping an eye out to see if anyone's noticed his actions, he's rather happy to find no one has even looked in his direction since Ram left his side. Taking a seat in an empty chair, Atsumu makes sure his next movements are slow and calculated, eyes scanning the crowd for onlookers. Tucking the shirt under his own, Atsumu holds it close to his chest as he watches the game. Halfway through the first set, Atsumu yawns and waves Ram over.

"What's up, boy?" 

"I'm headin' in for the night. Fuckin' tired, I tell ya. See ya in the morn?" Atsumu asks while standing, arms crossed over his chest.

"Sure thing," Ram waves him off before hurriedly rushing back to the game, screaming insults at the Team G players.

Snorting, Atsumu turns and walks back inside the Block H building and through the halls. A few other inmates show praises at him from the kiss at dinner while others just give suggestive grins. Once he's managed to make it back to his cell, he steps in to find the little room empty. 

"Perfect timin'," Atsumu mumbles while squatting down and unlocking his cabinet. 

Pulling the shirt out, Atsumu first rips each sleeve off and folds them together, placing them side-by-side in the cabinet first. Folding up the midsection of the shirt, Atsumu places it inside as well.

"Not to sure what I'm gonna do with ya later, but at least I have ya," Atsumu sighs after locking up his things again. 

Heading over to his bed, a few piles of extra clothes rest against the mattress, catching his eye. Carefully picking each up, Atsumu realizes they're just extra uniforms with his number on the back. Rolling his eyes, Atsumu places them on top of his cabinet before taking off his current shirt and tossing it to the floor by his bed. _I'll take my clothes to the laundry room two days from now when I'm on my last outfit. I should have a solid plan by then,_ Atsumu decides while climbing into his bed.

As Atsumu closes his eyes, he thinks about what Osamu is doing at this exact moment. _Is he worryin' 'bout me still? Botherin' Kita, maybe? Or fuckin' Suna? Probably fuckin' Suna,_ Atsumu laughs to himself as he rolls onto his side, facing the wall. "It's gonna be a long two weeks," Atsumu whispers to himself.


End file.
